No, for Alcatraz sailed across the pickets with a bound that cut in two the distance still dividing him from his master.

It had all happened, perhaps, within the space of three breaths.

Now Marianne leaned out of the window and screamed her warning, for the faded chestnut was on the very heels of the Mexican.

He raised his contorted face at her cry, then threw up both his arms to her in a gesture she could never forget.
"Shoot!" yelled Cordova.

"Amigo, amigo, shoot! Quick--" Then Alcatraz struck him! Half the bones in his body must have been broken by the impact.